


Life Is But A Dream

by EnamoredByTonight



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Multi, poor damien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 03:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18540952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnamoredByTonight/pseuds/EnamoredByTonight
Summary: What if Damien was the one who lost everyone? What if Celine had invited them over, without any harmful intentions? What if Mark and William became Darkiplier? Here is only the last part, the ending that shattered one's mind and fused them together.





	Life Is But A Dream

Damien glances at the discarded weapon in front of him, anxious from the events that had just occurred a few minutes before. He didn’t know what to do. He grips his broken cane in his hands, holding onto it as if his life depended on it. The house creaks back and forth, whispering lies through his head. He gets up, walking over to the railing overlooking the desolate floor below. He leans on the edge of the railing. He traces the frozen rail with his own chilled fingers as he tries to recount the exact moment where he made that decision. He looks at the person across from him. At a person who was once his friend. At a person who once was kind to him and in turn, he was kind to him. The man sneers at Damien. He whispers something that Damien won't ever forget, no matter the dark times that may come. He gulps and turns back towards the top of the stairs. The past events rush through his head, clouding his mind from any sane thought. 

_ “I’m all in for getting the gang back together, but it’s a little weird having all of us together when we don’t even know what the occasion is” _

Damien takes a deep breath, hoping to forget this. All of this. The manor, the party, the disappearances, and most of all, his friends. He couldn’t handle the thought of his childhood friends, the ones that he grew up with, that stuck by him for better or worse, were scattered in the wind like a sash whipping through the torrential storm. He falters, letting his emotions get the best of him. He grips the railing. He manages to stay upright through the storm yet to come. 

_ “He’s my friend. He always will be, but he’s changed. Something happened to him. Just be careful. Okay?” _

Damien stops himself from falling any further into the cold, dark atmosphere of the mistreated manor. He turns to look at the other body inside this forsaken house. At the other side of the room lay the District Attorney. Tears threaten to fall as he studies the ever changing face of them. He kneels next to them, hopelessly checking for a pulse. He pulls his hands back quickly, blood dripping down his fingers. He jumps back, seeing the District Attorney turn their head towards him. He moves back, panting. 

_ “Celine’s gone” “ _ What do you mean she’s gone? _ ” “She just disappeared” _

Damien stands up. He brushes himself off. None of this was his fault . . . right? It was just a mistake. Just a wrong choice in this never ending turnstile of decisions. But this didn’t seem feasible. This sort of thing doesn’t happen in real life. At least not to him or his friends. Damien takes a deep breath. 

“It’s just a bad dream, Damien. It’ll be okay. You will wake up soon and everyone will be okay”, he reassures himself, on the brink of tears. He looks up at the balcony, seeming to be farther away than it actually was. He didn’t do anything bad. It’s just a bad dream.

_ “We need to leave this place. There’s only death here now”  _

The feeling of the cane swinging through the air stuck in his head. His breath caught, remembering the look on his old friend’s face. He throws the cane with horrid relish. The manor creaks menacingly in response. He ignores the sounds as he tries to get a grip on his actions. His emotions fall down his face. The memories of his friends slowly creep back into his mind. He screams out. The sound echoes through the manor, reminding Damien how empty it is.  

_ “Oh, you want to talk about madness? Madness is stealing your best friend’s husband. Madness is pleading her for cash to fund your sick sexual exploits with that very man-” _

Damien shakily breathes out, moving further and further away from the body of the person whom he trusted the most. He shuts his eyes, trying to forget the sight.

“It’s just a bad dream. It’s not real. It can’t be”, he mutters to himself.  When Damien finally grabs the cane, he takes a deep breath, leaning against one of the walls of the expansive room. He looks back at the large grandfather clock, trying to find the numbers in the dim light. It reads ‘8:42’. He sighs. He puts his head in his hands. 

**Ten hours.**

Ten hours since he lost his friends to this horrible nightmare. Damien closes his eyes. If this was only a dream, he still could’ve tried to save his friends, but, instead, he did the opposite. He tries to think of a good excuse to tell when he finally gets back.  _ If _ he goes back. He could stay dreaming, but the reminder of his friends held heavy above his head. 

“ _ But what if this isn’t a dream? What if you can’t wake up, Damien? Will you keep me company? Who cares about William or Mark or the rest of them? You’ll be just fine if you stay here” _ , a voice whispers into his ear. He looks around to try to find the source. He looks out the stained glass window standing across from him. If this was real, he couldn’t go back. He couldn’t keep being a mayor of a town after this. Who would want a mayor who couldn’t protect his closest friends, much less an entire town? The manor creaks, almost as if it was agreeing to Damien’s train of thought.  **Everything will be just fine if you stay right here.** He shakes his head, closing his eyes. 

Shuffling noises come from the other side of the room, alerting Damien. He looks up. He gasps softly, covering his mouth. The District Attorney was standing up, surveying their surroundings. Damien stands up as he steps towards them. He quickly puts his hands up, seeing the District Attorney step back.

“N-no. It’s okay”, Damien stammers out. The District Attorney watches him, something a little off about them. 

“I- I thought you were gone. I mean, why would you be gone? Nothing happened. Nothing at all”, he says, his panic fading away as fast as his friends did. He runs a hand through his hair.

It was just a mistake. “It wasn’t real. This isn’t real. I passed out during the party and this is just a dream. I- It  _ has _ to be”

The District Attorney starts to say something, but they stop, studying the Mayor's face. The Mayor sighs in relief. He places a hand on either side of the District Attorney, smiling. 

“It's just a bad dream!” He pauses, trying to relax. “Thank you so much for showing me the truth, like you always do”

Damien pulls the District Attorney into a tight hug, not noticing their form flicker between Mark and William's bodies. Their faces switch between sadness and regret. The ‘District Attorney pats Damien's back. Tears of happiness slowly fall down his face, pulling away from the hug.

“Thank you, old friend”, he wipes away his tears and with them the last shred of his sanity. “Do you know where William is? Oh wait, since this is a dream, can I have him come over here?”

The ‘District Attorney’ nods slowly. They clench their fists. Damien chuckles. He runs upstairs.

“William? Are you there?”, he yells out. “Mark? Celine?” He disappears upstairs, his yelling slowly growing quieter. 

The light shining through the windows fade, shrouding the ‘District Attorney’ in darkness. They pick up a gun off of the floor. The letters “W.J.B” are engraved into the side. They turn towards the mirror behind them. The reflection shows not the District Attorney, but William, dressed in a white button up shirt with black suspenders, his appearance flickering red and blue. He tilts his head to the side, cracking his neck. He holsters the gun. He quickly makes his way out of the suffocating atmosphere of the house, Damien's pleas following him out. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually inspired by a conversation with one of my friends one late night. I only have this so far, but if people are interested, I might write more because this is a pretty cool alternative.


End file.
